


What Happened, Johnny Storm?

by dottie_wan_kenobi



Series: What Happened, Johnny Storm? [1]
Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse)
Genre: Angst, Family Reunions, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Negative Zone Trauma, Trauma, implied spideytorch, set somewhere around/after fantastic four #600-605
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22066960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dottie_wan_kenobi/pseuds/dottie_wan_kenobi
Summary: Johnny's family wants to know what happened to him in the Negative Zone. There's no easy answer.
Relationships: Johnny Storm & Depression
Series: What Happened, Johnny Storm? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588255
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	What Happened, Johnny Storm?

**Author's Note:**

> It is 5 am as I'm posting this. it's not beta'd but I did read over it to see if it made sense. idk if it does, I hope so, but whatever I'll fix it when i wake up
> 
> Just read these issues today and couldn't NOT write something after I saw that there was a criminally small amount of emotional fall out from Johnny's time in the Negative Zone
> 
> anyways happy new years here's some angst. warning for one passively suicidal thought.

“So.”

“So,” Johnny repeats.

Everyone looks at him, wide-eyed and crying and clearly unable to look away for long. Usually he’d preen under the attention but today, it’s too much. _Everything_ is too much, but he can handle the Too Much of the Cosmic Control Rod and the war with the mad gods and the future Franklin and Val. What he can’t handle is the Too Much of having twelve children plus his three adult family members plus Peter, and not to mention the three mostly-strangers all staring at him like this. Especially Sue. God, her eyes are shimmering with tears and she’s holding his arm tight, eyes sweeping over his face over and over like he’s a miracle, like she can’t ever look away again.

This kind of attention was something he always used to want, something he’d have done practically anything to get. Finally someone was looking at him, _finally_ someone was willing to give up a moment of their time and waste it on him. Maybe even to worry about him or be interested in what he was doing. Those moments were always nice. Now, though… he feels like he’s back in the center of the arena, billions of eyes piercing him from all directions. Wanting to tear him apart, wanting to enjoy the show as someone else actually got to do it.

“So…,” Peter says again. He’s holding his ugly white mask in his hand and his hair is messy, sweaty. There’s a flush high in his cheeks, his eyes bright. He looks perfect, like part of the family. Also like he’s desperate for answers and can’t stop his gaze from wandering all over Johnny like he’s afraid this is all a dream. _You and me both, dude_ , Johnny thinks.

After another moment, Johnny impatiently asks, “What?”

Peter steps closer, not as much as when he picked Johnny up, but enough to reach out and almost touch his cheek. Johnny tries not to startle away. It’s bad enough that he can only barely not freak out at the way Sue’s holding him—he doesn’t want to actually flinch when Peter just touches his face. God, none of these people are going to hurt him, and he needs to remember that before he hurts someone’s feelings.

Hand caught halfway between them, Peter breathes in softly. “What happened?”

“Squirt, you were dead,” Ben says. His voice is both comforting and not—Johnny thought he’d never hear Ben’s voice again. It’s familiar and the sound of family and he missed it terribly the past two years. But at the same time, he doesn’t want to hear that shake, that wobble, doesn’t want to see how his oldest friend is tearing up. “I saw it happen.”

“Annihilus showed me your suit,” Reed adds. In typical Reed fashion, he keeps his gaze mostly planted on the ground, self-resentment obvious in the slumped line of his shoulders. Every once in a while he peeks up at Johnny, his face tense. “He said something about you being the lucky one. Endless resurrection.”

“Can’t stop living,” Johnny says before Reed can. He’s only heard that phrase about a thousand times, from Annihilus and the guards and the other slaves. At this point, it’s less depressing and more fucking annoying. Can’t stop living. A curse much more so than a blessing. “Yeah.”

“What does that mean?” Sue asks, but she hardly needs to. He can see the wheels in her mind turning, taking the facts presented to her and coming up with the only possible conclusion. Two plus two equals lots of violent, traumatic death.

He wants to shake her off, but the second she understands, she shifts him closer to her side. He thinks if it were just her here, he could say something. He could tell her that yeah, he was killed. Repeatedly. Probably not the worms, though. Maybe he could tell Ben about the worms. Or Peter, since he’d be more okay with the worms than the beheading. What would Ben think of the beheading? Would Reed be proud of him for how devastating his Nova blasts were?

“Johnny,” Sue says, and something about her tone has one of the Moloids asking another, “Is the Johnny okay?” Whatever the response is, he doesn’t hear it, too busy glancing over the crowd.

Vil and Wu and Alex are all looking so intently at him that he knows he’s going to be figured out. Little Franklin and Val are holding hands, and they’re not crying, but he knows with a sudden clarity that they know. Val’s lip is wobbling. The older versions of his nibblings have no pity in their own gazes, at least.

This is too fucking much.

He takes a step back, trying not to jerk his arm out of Sue’s hold. The last thing he wants to do right now is immediately piss her off. He’s missed her, and there were times where he’d lay there on the floor of his cell and his chest would feel like a big, gaping maw, either figuratively or literally or both, and he’d think about her. What was she doing? Was she defeating bad guys, toppling their entire evil schemes in minutes? Was she mourning him? Was she trying to be strong and move on with her life, taking care of the kids and not allowing her grief to bring her down?

Nothing can bring her down, and he knows that. That quality has always inspired him. It helped keep him alive in the Zone, the thought that Sue wouldn’t let herself fall apart for anything, and certainly not a couple of big ugly aliens. Every time he got hit and had to drag himself back up to his feet, he thought of her. She was never far from him there.

But right now…. It’s _too much_.

“I’m fine, Tong. Artie, seriously, don’t worry so much, okay? I am just fine. Bentley, wow, your stink eye has somehow gotten even stinkier. Good job, kiddo.”

“How many times,” Peter says over the sound of Bentley’s answering grumbles, and it’s not a question. 

Before, Johnny would’ve answered no problem, sporting a pleased little grin and a blush that Peter would pretend not to see. He’s always had an issue denying Peter when he uses that tone. But it’s easier now to laugh and ask, “What?” like he has no idea what his friend could possibly mean. Flippantly, he waves his hand, trying to sound light and carefree. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Look, guys, I’m gonna go check in with the Light Brigade and head to bed, I think. It’s been a long day for all of us. Hellacious, even. Doesn’t bed sound great right about now?”

“How many times, Uncle Johnny?” And of course, that’s Franklin, and he’s got that look in his eye that he used to get before he threat epic meltdowns. Every time Johnny babysat him, he’d have one, and all because Johnny refused to let him stick his fingers in the toaster. He isn’t going to let this go, not ever. Not until he knows.

“Why does it matter?” He snaps. Regret instantly washes over him—this is his nephew, the one who was right there when he died, who Johnny has been so desperate to see one last time, his bones ache with it. And he’s a kid, and it’s not like Johnny is mad at him, he didn’t do anything wrong, he’s just asking—he’s asking too much. They all are. Obviously they aren’t going to realize that unless it spells it out for them. But the words stick in his throat. All he can manage to say instead is, “Just—leave it alone.”

“Johnny—” Several voices all say at once, but no. No. He can’t stick around any longer. 

It doesn’t matter that he missed them, or that they missed him. It doesn’t matter that there are reunions that need to be made still, or that he really, really needs a Sue hug right now. It _doesn’t matter_.

As he stands in the elevator, watching the numbers go down, he has to force down a wave of self hatred. They mourned him, they should get to see him some more before he pulls away again. He should give them more time. 

…no. Nope. He can’t do it.

When he finally gets to where the members of the Light Brigade are standing around, thankfully outside where the air is fresh and disgustingly humid and the best thing he’s ever felt in his life, it’s clear he hasn’t been able to hide the strain on his face. Els and Kal share a glance, and then Kal is none-too-gently bumping against Johnny. “I believe it’s time to celebrate, Johnny Storm.”

He wants to sleep. He wants to feel better. He wants for none of this to have really happened, wants this to be a fever dream of a fifteen year old dying in space. That could be nice.

“Hell yeah,” he says, grinning broadly. Moving to the front of the group, he feels exhaustion cover him like a fog, weighing down his limbs. Dara gives him a look, and he purposefully misinterprets it, winking back. “Just follow me, I know all the best places around here. I’ll even find you a nice Terran woman to hook up with, Dara.”

Els gives her shit for it as they set off, Johnny leading the pack, his smile frozen on his face. He’s going to get drunk, he vows to himself. He’s going to get super fucking drunk and just try to forget everything.

It won’t work, and he knows that. But hey, it’s worth a shot, right?

He thinks of Sue. Of Reed and Ben and Peter and the kids. How every single one of them were so curious and so emotional and so much more alive than Johnny will ever be again.

Yeah, he thinks. Definitely worth a shot.

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed, please leave a comment, thank you <333


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